


Astraphobia

by Listenerofshadows



Series: Sander Sides One-Shots [5]
Category: Sander Sides, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, LAMP (platonic) - Freeform, Logic | Logan Sanders - Freeform, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Suddenly Human!AU, blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: “Logan flinches, despite his anticipation. It’s an involuntary flinch, because he knows it’s irrational to be afraid of thunder storms. He knows fear. Logic fears things that cannot be explained. The unknown. Things like the vastness of the ocean and the uncertainty of space. There is nothing to fear about storms, however, as long he stays indoors. He knows this and yet he cannot help wondering, what if?”





	Astraphobia

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt from Tumblr asking for a fic based off a headcanon where Logan is scared of thunderstorms despite being the logical side, and the others help comfort him. I sat down to write this, completely intending on writing this in the canonverse when my brain went, "SUDDENLY HUMAN!AU?? SUDDENLY HUMAN!AU!!"

Logan jerks awake from the pages of a notebook. He looks around blearily until his eyes land on a clock: 6:30pm. He leans back in relief. Good, he had only fallen asleep for about fifteen minutes. A clang comes from the kitchen, signaling that Patton is still washing up from supper.  Virgil and Roman are upstairs, doing who knew what. In Virgil’s case, he was most likely sulking. The event had affected him most of out of the four, after all.

It’s been nearly three days since they awoke up in the physical world, with Thomas nowhere in sight. Three long days of trying to figure what the hell happened, with almost nothing to make up for it. Logan sighs, looking down at the papers at disdain. They need to figure out something, and fast. They cannot conduct videos without Thomas—and they can only lie about Thomas being sick for so long before someone decides to check up on the apartment. The lie leaves a bitter taste in all their mouths, reminding them of a certain snake.

Logan isn’t sure what’s more disconcerting, the fact that Deceit and the others hadn’t appeared with them or the implications that they might be only ones still in the mind-scape, if Thomas is out there somewhere.

He frowns, running his hand through his hair in frustration as he took a glance out the window. The clouds are dark and brooding, suiting for the mood that hangs over the apartment. If this was the mind-scape, Logan would’ve blamed it for Roman’s need for dramatics.  A flash of light dashes in between the clouds, and Logan’s heart jumps. He counts silently in his head, waiting for the inevitable crackle. One-thousand, two-thousand, three-thousand, four thous—

BOOM.

Logan flinches, despite his anticipation. It’s an involuntary flinch, because he knows it’s irrational to be afraid of thunder storms. He knows fear. Logic fears things that cannot be explained. The unknown. Things like the vastness of the ocean and the uncertainty of space.

Thunder storms is a thoroughly understood phenomenon. There are bound to be things still to be discovered with them as knowledge never ceases. But man knows enough to not be afraid of the loud, jarring sounds they caused. As long as someone finds shelter preferably away from a conductor such as a tree, they’d be safe from the lightning bolts.

A structure such as Thomas’ apartment is a suitable shelter from the storm. It keeps its’ occupants both safe and dry from the storm. He knows these things and yet he cannot help wondering, what if?

After all, he had yet to figure out the cause of their expulsion to the physical realm nor the cause of Thomas’ disappearance though the two were certainly related. Two things he never anticipated to occur. Another two things he failed to do his job on. Only this time instead of it being something small as “infinitesimal” it is something far bigger.

Another thunder struck interrupts Logan’s thoughts, its’ bellow shaking the house like one of Roman’s dragon-witches. His body starts trembling, he notes detachedly. He tries taking a few deep breaths to rectify this, but they keep ending up shallow and wispy.

Logan doesn’t fear thunderstorms. He knows how they are constructed—he can recite each stage with perfect clarity—in fact, he does so to himself. He mumbles under his breath,

“Lightning is formed by electrical charges in the clouds. A positive charge forms beneath the cloud on the ground, like a tree or a mountain. The charge from the ground attracts the charge from the cloud and thus lightning is created. Lightning is deadlier than hurricanes and tornados, it kills between 75-100 people a year. It is advised to remain in a house or a car during the duration of a lightning storm. I am in a house. I am safe.”

CRA-CRACKLE!

Logan’s heart beats faster.

It’s illogical for him to fear this storm. Especially since he has experienced storms before as he is a part of Thomas and has seen many a storm through his eyes. When Thomas was younger, the logical solution to alleviate his fear would’ve been the comforting arms of a parent or an older relative. But Logan now knows that attends to only the emotional duress of the person afraid of the storm.

Emotions aren’t his department—they’re Patton’s.  His job pertains to rational fears—such as a fear of the unknown. Logic fears what cannot be easily defined. The unknown both fascinates and terrorizes him. The unknown is new and exciting and surely so much to be learned from it.

But it is also frustrating and hard to put into a logical explanation—fleeting like fog. Logan doesn’t like not being well-versed in a subject. He is Logic, but he also the keeper of knowledge—he knows and remembers well every fact that Thomas ever learned. While being all-knowing is unattainable, and illogical, it’s something he can’t help yearning to be.

He knows well the components of a lightning storm—but he thought he knew well of the rules surrounding their personifications before they got flung into the real world. What if he was wrong about lightning storms? What if a lightning bolt struck him just now? Would he die?

It’s already been proven that for all intents and purposes, they appear to be normal human beings. The blood that poured out when Patton accidentally cut himself with the knife while cooking dinner proves they can be injured. It can be logical to then presume a fatal injury could lead to death.

If he died, what would happen to Thomas? If the others were able to bring Thomas back—would he be missing his logic? Would he lose the ability to maintain memory banks? He was quite the mindless numpty without Virgil, who knows the consequences of Logan’s disappearance could do to him—

A bright flash of light erupts in front of his eyes, striking the tree a mere few feet away from the window. The roar of the resulting bolt is loud, and Logan quickly scrambles off the couch. He trips and falls against the coffee table, banging his head against a corner.

“Logan?” Patton calls out from the kitchen.

He groans and touches his head, immediately drawing it back when he felt liquid. He stares down at his hand, feeling queasy at the sight of red. Blood. He is going to die, and it is all because of a ridiculous fear of storms.

“Logan, oh my gosh!”

He blinks and suddenly Patton is at his side, leaning him against the couch as he presses a clean kitchen rag against his head, putting pressure against the wound.

“What happened—”

“Roman, can you get the first aid kit?”

“Of course, Padre.”

“It looks really bad, maybe we should take him to the hospital—”

“No,” Logan utters, cutting off Virgil’s sentence, “No, no, no.”

His teeth clenches, which only seemed to make his headache worse. The other three exchanges a glance.

“Why not, kiddo?”

“It raises too many questions. I suppose I could use Thomas’ ID but—but what about you three? And the storm—”

CR-R-RACK-LE.

Logan trembles at the noise, a whimper unwillingly coming out of his mouth. He shuts his eyes, refusing to see their reactions. He is falling apart, failing at his one and only job—staying levelheaded and rooted in rational thought. He cannot allow himself to give in to this absurd fear—

Someone embraces him, wrapping their arms around him in a warm, overwhelming hold. It’s a momentary salvation from the storm. For a moment, it’s as if the storm doesn’t exist.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Logan.” Patton says, in that soft yet firm parental voice he often uses to reprimand the others.

“I’m being illogical—I shouldn’t be afraid,” A sob wretches his throat, leaving him gasping for breath.

They don’t have time for this. He needs to figure out how to bring back Thomas—to bring back their purposes for existing. They need their host to function optimally.  The sides are only parts of a whole—it’s the reason behind his breakdown. He isn’t meant to exist separately as an individual person—split off from the others. His sense of logic is becoming warped—

A sudden noise akin to clanging pots happens in the skies and Logan shakes.

“It’s okay, Lo.” Patton whispers fiercely, “You’re not alone. We’re all in this together, as family.”

Something about that statement triggers tears from him. Logan blames it on his exhaustion. Patton holds him for a little while longer, massaging his back as he hummed. Finally, he released Logan, giving him an once-over before beaming.

“Now let’s get that wound looked at.” Patton says.

Virgil’s worry at been all for naught as it turns out Logan’s wound isn’t dire enough to go to the hospital. The bleeding thankfully stops after about fifteen minutes. Roman clumsily bandages Logan up, until the top of his head looks like it belongs to a mummy. When Logan points out the excessiveness, Roman is offended at such a claim.

“I’ll have you know, I have bandaged many a battle wound!” He states, placing his hand against his chest for emphasis.

Logan rolls his eyes and bites back his tongue. Despite all his imagined battles with dragon-witches, they are just that; imaginary. Roman doesn’t truly know how to bandage as it is like his knowledge of Spanish. He only truly knows a smattering of real Spanish words. The rest of it is all gibberish—things that Thomas thinks sounds like the Spanish language.

Virgil, meanwhile shuts all the blinds, and Patton picks up the scattered papers and places them in a neat stack on the coffee table.

“What movie do you want to watch, teach?” Virgil asks, sticking his head into the DVD cabinet.

“Movie?” Logan blinks.

“Um, well usually something that helps…keep my mind off things is to watch a movie,” Virgil murmurs, scratching the back of his head, “I thought it might help.”

Logan opens his mouth to protest but Patton squeezes his hand.

“Logan, you’ve been at this for almost three days, I think it might be best if we all…take a moment to relax.”

He hears the distant rumble of the thunder and withholds a shudder. While his mind screams at him to keep working until the problem is solved, he knows it is not logical. The little to none sleep he’s obtained in the last three days is finally catching up to him. Even if he tries to keep working, with a pounding headache and an exhausted mind, he’d get nowhere. Sometimes…the logical option is to relax and give your mind a much-needed rest instead of remaining gridlocked in the same neuron connections.

“Alright,” He eventually agrees, pursing his lips, “How about we watch Big Hero 6?”

“A Disney Movie, excellent!” Roman booms, fist pumping the air.

Logan pretends not to notice when Virgil turns the volume up abnormally loud to obscure the sound of the raging thunderstorm outside. He pretends not to notice when Patton makes hot cocoa, he heaves Logan’s with extra marshmallows—knowing Logan’s not-so-secret sweet tooth. He pretends not to notice when Roman purposefully eggs him on to rant about the physics in the movie when he sees Logan’s gaze wander over to the papers.

They watch a few more movies after that. It is enjoyable being able to watch the movies in this fashion. Movie nights in the mindscape happened either through watching whatever Thomas’ was watching at the moment or through memories, and memories were not the same thing as experiencing it for the first time. They are grainy and if had been a movie Thomas hadn’t seen in a while, bits and pieces are missing from the plot.

He yawns as he stares at the rolling credits for Wall-E. The storm has long passed, but he still feels an irrational fear quivering in his chest. Something instinctual—something that hadn’t belonged to him before he was spit out of the mind-scape in this form—tells him to be wary of the storm’s return.

As he gazes on the others scrawled out on the couch, sound asleep, the cold feeling in his chest is thawed. It has something to do about humanity as a whole—the need to band together, to carry life’s burdens equally across their backs. It is why he never minds Thomas’ friends because he knows they are needed for good mental health, and often the ideas they bring to the table are even greater than Roman’s. Not to mention, the work they pour into the videos, helping Thomas in ways he couldn’t accomplish on his own. Logan estimates the quality of the videos wouldn’t be as high without the help of Thomas’ friends.

He has always understood this from a rational, factual point of view. But it isn’t until just now when a feeling of warmth swept over his chest that he understands things a bit more clearly. The fear is still there, coursing through the thoughts of his brain (What if he can’t find Thomas? What if they’re stuck like this forever?). Tomorrow Logan will get up, have breakfast and sit down to stare at his papers once more.

But the fear is smothered, with the reassurance that he is not alone in this. It was like what Patton said to him earlier—they were all in this together. Just the thought comforts him and he feels ashamed of his earlier thought processes. He had devalued their importance and viewed himself at the only capable of solving the problem.

But Houston didn’t send a man on the moon with a team of one. It took hundreds of people from the astronauts to the scientists to even the interns to accomplish the impossible.

 

 Tomorrow he will face those papers, with the support of others.

 

Patton turns over in his sleep, tossing an arm around Logan and pulling him closer. Logan stiffens, but does not make a move to remove his arm.

“Don’t worry, Lo,” Patton mumbles, still deep in the throes of sleep, “I’ll protect you.”

Tomorrow Logan will ask about Patton’s dream, and he’ll sprout off some nonsensical tale as dreams often are.

It’s just about as illogical as his fear of the thunder storm, but he feels comforted by Patton’s words. He should be bothered by it, perhaps afraid of the implications of the irregularities in his thought processes. But for now, in his exhaustive state of mind, he lets himself be comforted by it. He drifts off to sleep to the gentle rhythm of raindrops hitting the roof.


End file.
